Charles Spurgeon, the so called “Prince of Preachers,” was a Baptist pastor in England that died in 1892. One of the most influential pastors of all time, Spurgeon was an excellent writer, an incredible communicator, and one of my own personal heroes. In his excellent and magisterial sermon on peacemaking, Spurgeon has a particularly long section where he discusses war, and the Christian’s response to it. I do not believe that Spurgeon was a pacifist, but his position seems to be very similar to C.S. Lewis, though a bit stronger: War should be avoided at all costs, and peacemakers should work to prevent war. Spurgeon himself lived through a sort of world war, though he was dead long before World War 1 ignited. Spurgeon’s world war was the Crimean War – a war with multiple belligerents, almost four hundred thousand deaths and one that was likely be more influential on the major wars of the twentieth century than any other prior to it. I will put the entire section of Spurgeon’s peacemaking sermon below, but for those who don’t like to read huge chunks, here are three highlights from Spurgeon’s thoughts on war:
- “The peacemaker remembers the war with Russia, and he remembers what fools we were that we should have meddled there, to bring to ourselves great losses both in trade and money, with no perceptible advantage. He knows that this nation has often been drawn into war for political purposes, and that usually the pressure and burden of it comes upon the poor working man, upon such as have to earn their living by the sweat of their brow. Therefore, though he, like other men, feels hot blooded, and being born an Englishman, feels the blood of the old sea kings often in his veins, yet he represses it, and says to himself, “I must not strive, for the servant of God must be gentle to all men, apt to teach, patient.” So he puts his back against the current, and when he hears everywhere the noise of war, and sees many that are hot for it, he does his best to administer a cooling draught, and he says, “Be patient; let it alone; if the thing be an evil, yet war is worse than any other evil. There was never a bad peace yet, and never a good war,”
My thoughts: The war with Russia here is, of course, the Crimean War. Unlike World War 2 (and sort of like World War 1), the Crimean War was not really waged to stop a remarkable evil power, nor to accomplish a great moral end. It was just a fight over a bunch of disparate disagreements with almost 400,000 deaths and very little valuable gain for any of the countries involved. Spurgeon originally preached his peacemaking sermon six years after the end of the Crimean war, and five months into the beginning of the American Civil War. Spurgeon, with insight not common in the 19th century, notes that war disparately affects the poor and the working class, and urges that good and Godly men push back against the hawks that often call for war with the cooling draught of patience and peace. Powerful words!
- “If he has any influence in the commonwealth, if he is a member of the House of Parliament, if he is a writer in a newspaper, or if he speaks from the platform, he says, “Let us be careful before we hurry into this strife. We must preserve our country’s honour; we must maintain our right to entertain those who flee from their oppressors; we must maintain that England shall always be the safe home for every rebel who flees from his king, a place from which the oppressed shall never be dragged by force of arms; yet still,” he says, “can this happen without bloodshed?”
My thoughts: These are more powerful words by Spurgeon. He is advising care and calling his country to be a safe haven for refugees and rebels from other countries. He cautions against quickly going into armed battle, and suggests that all potential conflicts should be confronted by the question, “Can this be [solved] without bloodshed?” Remember here that Spurgeon has seen a series of wars that were not so much about stopping an evildoer like Adolph Hitler, but more focused on political gains and the protection of territorial interests. I’m guessing, but I believe that Spurgeon would not have made the mistake that Neville Chamberlain made (foot-dragging that sought to pacify Hitler and the Nazis), but he would have cautioned Britain strongly about involvement in World War 1 – which really did represent the kind of Christian nation vs Christian nation war that he cautions against below.
3. “He envisions himself over a field of battle; he hears the shrieks of the dying and the groans of the wounded; he knows that even conquerors themselves have said that all the enthusiasm for victory has not been able to remove the horror of the dreadful scene after the battle, and so he says, “Indeed, peace, peace!” AND, “ He says about war that it is a monster, that at its best it is a fiend, that of all scourges it is the worst; and he looks upon soldiers as the red twigs of the bloody rod, and he begs God not to strike a guilty nation like this, but to put up the sword for awhile, so that we be not thrown into trouble, overwhelmed with sorrow, and exposed to cruelty, which may bring thousands to the grave, and multitudes to poverty”
My thoughts: Behold here Spurgeon the master of oration – a man most amazing at painting pictures, using vivid illustrations and capturing the attention of listeners and readers alike. Spurgeon is one of the finest wordsmiths that the Body of Christ has ever known, and these two sentences show him here at his full power, whether you agree with him, or not.
And now, the full selection (From The Peacemaker, A Sermon for the Times. Preached by Charles Spurgeon at the London Metropolitan Tabernacle on 12/8/1861):
Thus the peacemaker is a citizen, and though he is a Christian, he remembers that Christianity does not require him to forego his citizenship, but to use and to improve it for Christ’s glory. The peacemaker, then, as a citizen, loves peace. If he lives in this land, he knows that he lives among a people who are very sensitive about their honour, and are speedily and easily provoked—a people who are so pugilistic in their character that the very mention of war stirs their blood, and they feel as if they would go at it at once with all their force. The peacemaker remembers the war with Russia,1 and he remembers what fools we were that we should have meddled there, to bring to ourselves great losses both in trade and money, with no perceptible advantage. He knows that this nation has often been drawn into war for political purposes, and that usually the pressure and burden of it comes upon the poor working man, upon such as have to earn their living by the sweat of their brow. Therefore, though he, like other men, feels hot blooded, and being born an Englishman, feels the blood of the old sea kings often in his veins, yet he represses it, and says to himself, “I must not strive, for the servant of God must be gentle to all men, apt to teach, patient.” So he puts his back against the current, and when he hears everywhere the noise of war, and sees many that are hot for it, he does his best to administer a cooling draught, and he says, “Be patient; let it alone; if the thing be an evil, yet war is worse than any other evil. There was never a bad peace yet, and never a good war,” he says, “and whatever loss we may sustain by being too quiet, we shall certainly lose a hundred times as much by being too fierce.”
And then in the present case he thinks how bad it would be for two Christian nations to go to war—two nations sprung from the same blood,—two countries which really have a closer relationship than any other two countries upon the face of the earth,—rivals in their liberal institutions,—fellow labourers in propagating the gospel of Christ,—two nations that have within their midst more of the elect of God and more of the true followers of Christ than any other nations under heaven. Yes, he thinks within himself, it would be bad that the bones of our sons and daughters should go again to fertilize our fields, as they have already done. He remembers that the farmers of Yorkshire brought home the mold from Waterloo with which to fertilize their own fields—the blood and bones of their own sons and daughters, and he thinks it not proper that the prairies of America should be enriched with the blood and bones of his children; and on the other hand he thinks that he would not strike another man, but would sooner be struck by him, and that blood would be to him an awful sight.
So he says, “What I would not do myself, I would not have others do for me, and if I do not wish to be a killer, neither would I wish to have others killed for me.” He envisions himself over a field of battle; he hears the shrieks of the dying and the groans of the wounded; he knows that even conquerors themselves have said that all the enthusiasm for victory has not been able to remove the horror of the dreadful scene after the battle, and so he says, “Indeed, peace, peace!” If he has any influence in the commonwealth, if he is a member of the House of Parliament, if he is a writer in a newspaper, or if he speaks from the platform, he says, “Let us be careful before we hurry into this strife. We must preserve our country’s honour; we must maintain our right to entertain those who flee from their oppressors; we must maintain that England shall always be the safe home for every rebel who flees from his king, a place from which the oppressed shall never be dragged by force of arms; yet still,” he says, “can this happen without bloodshed?”
And he bids the law officers carefully examine it and see if they cannot find that perhaps there may have been an oversight committed, which may be pardoned and condoned without the shedding of blood, without the drawing of the sword from its scabbard. Well, he says about war that it is a monster, that at its best it is a fiend, that of all scourges it is the worst; and he looks upon soldiers as the red twigs of the bloody rod, and he begs God not to strike a guilty nation like this, but to put up the sword for awhile, so that we be not thrown into trouble, overwhelmed with sorrow, and exposed to cruelty, which may bring thousands to the grave, and multitudes to poverty. The peacemaker acts like this, and he feels that while he does so, his conscience justifies him, and he is blessed, and men shall one day acknowledge that he was one of the children of God.
Copyright Notice:
Selection above taken from: Modernized Edition of Spurgeon’s Sermons. Copyright © 2010, Larry and Marion Pierce, Winterbourne, Ontario, Canada.
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